Rise of The Abandoned Husband

"So, the Martial Academy has a Scripture Pavilion?" I asked, my interest piqued.

Emerson Holmes nodded, his eyes gleaming with the same excitement I felt. We sat across from each other in his small but meticulously organized study, surrounded by scrolls and ancient texts.

"Not just any Scripture Pavilion," he replied, leaning forward. "One of the most comprehensive collections outside Veridia's main libraries. Historical texts, martial techniques, cultivation methods—some dating back centuries."

I couldn't hide my smile. After my disastrous encounter with Lowell Pauley from the Umbral Covenant, this felt like fate offering me another path.

"And you're sure your proposal for the academy will be approved?"

Emerson chuckled. "Already done. The city council signed off yesterday. We start renovations next month."

I took a sip of tea, considering the implications. "And as your partner, I'd have full access to this collection?"

"Day and night," he confirmed. "Plus, you'd be helping shape the next generation of martial artists. Teaching what you know, preserving knowledge that might otherwise be lost."

The opportunity was tantalizing. While the Mystic Realm remained a mystery I intended to solve, this academy could provide valuable information and resources.

"I'm in," I decided. "Send me the partnership agreement, and I'll review it."

Emerson's face lit up. "Excellent! I knew you'd see the potential. With your reputation backing the project, we'll attract students from all over the region."

As we discussed the details, my phone buzzed. A message from Clarissa: "Rex Osborne wants to meet. He outranks Lowell. Different approach."

I set the phone aside. The Covenant could wait. Right now, building my own foundation felt more important than chasing their mysteries.

"Tell me more about this Scripture Pavilion," I said to Emerson.

---

Meanwhile, in Gyeon City, Gene Mercer limped into his father's study, his legs still aching despite the medical treatment. The Covenant doctors had done their best, but the breaks were severe—Liam Knight's single strike had shattered both femurs.

His father, Tristan Mercer, looked up from his desk. Once a powerful figure in Gyeon City, years of declining fortune had left him gaunt, his once-commanding presence diminished.

"What happened?" Tristan demanded, noting his son's condition.

Gene's face tightened. "I encountered the alchemist everyone's been talking about. Liam Knight."

Tristan's expression darkened. "Knight? Here in Gyeon?"

"With the Covenant," Gene confirmed, lowering himself carefully into a chair. "They brought him to examine the shrine."

"And you confronted him," Tristan concluded, shaking his head. "Foolish."

"I had to test him," Gene insisted. "The rumors—"

"Are apparently true," his father cut in, gesturing at Gene's legs. "Did he at least exert himself?"

Gene's silence was answer enough.

Tristan sighed heavily, turning to gaze out the window at the decaying grandeur of Gyeon City. "So Knight has come to meddle in our affairs."

"Father, he's not like other alchemists," Gene said cautiously. "His power... I've never felt anything like it. He broke my legs with a single palm strike, and I sensed he was barely trying."

Something flashed in Tristan's eyes—a spark of the ambition that had once defined him.

"Tell me everything," he commanded.

Gene described the encounter in detail—Liam's techniques, his composure, the way he'd neutralized the Shadow Arts with apparent ease.

When he finished, Tristan remained silent for a long moment, his fingers steepled before his face.

"Knight is becoming a significant player," he finally said. "The Ashworths, the Celestial Apothecary Guild, and now the Covenant—all seek his favor."

"What does that matter to us?" Gene asked. "We're barely clinging to our position here in Gyeon. The Mercer name means nothing outside these walls."

A thin smile spread across Tristan's face. "Perhaps that's about to change."

Gene watched his father warily. He recognized that expression—it had preceded many of the Mercer family's greatest triumphs and most devastating failures.

"What are you thinking?"

Tristan rose from his chair, moving to a faded map of the region pinned to the wall. "The power structure is shifting. New alliances are forming. The Umbrella Covenant approaches Knight, but he rebuffs them. Why?"

"Pride," Gene suggested. "Lowell insulted him."

"No." Tristan shook his head. "Men like Knight don't walk away from power over mere insults. He rejected them because he has other options—better ones."

He traced a line on the map from Gyeon City to Havenwood.

"Knight is gathering resources, building connections. The question is: how can the Mercers position themselves in this new arrangement?"

Gene leaned forward, intrigued despite his pain. "You want to approach him? After what he did to me?"

Tristan waved dismissively. "That was your error, not his. You attacked; he defended. But yes, I'm considering a different approach."

"He won't trust us," Gene pointed out.

"Trust isn't necessary for alliance," Tristan replied. "Only mutual benefit."

Gene fell silent, contemplating his father's words. Then, slowly, a new thought formed—one born of resentment and opportunity.

"What if we could offer something more valuable than alliance?" he suggested. "What if we could deliver Liam Knight himself?"

Tristan turned, eyebrows raised. "Explain."

"The major families in Veridia City—they've had conflicts with Knight. The Blackthornes, the Sterlings, others. What would they give for Knight delivered into their hands?"

"A dangerous game," Tristan warned.

"But a lucrative one," Gene pressed. "And there's more. You heard about Emerson Holmes's new martial academy?"

"The one in Havenwood? What of it?"

"What if the Mercers secured a position there? Not just as students but as instructors? It would restore our family's standing, give us access to resources we haven't had in decades."

Tristan's eyes narrowed as he considered his son's suggestion. "And you believe capturing Knight could achieve this?"

"The Aguilar family is already negotiating for positions at the academy," Gene explained. "Their patriarch, Victor, despises Knight for humiliating his nephew. If we deliver Knight to them..."

Understanding dawned on Tristan's face. "They'd grant us what we want in return."

"Exactly," Gene confirmed. "One operation, two rewards—revenge against Knight for what he did to me, and a path back to prominence for the Mercer family."

Tristan returned to his desk, his movements suddenly energized. "Knight is powerful—too powerful for a direct confrontation."

"We don't confront him," Gene said. "We trap him. The Mercer Shadow Arts were designed for ambush, not fair fights."

Tristan nodded slowly, old ambitions rekindling. "I've heard Knight is searching for access to the Mystic Realm. Perhaps that's our bait."

"A dangerous ploy," Gene cautioned, echoing his father's earlier warning. "If he discovers the deception..."

"He won't," Tristan said firmly. "Not if we plan carefully."

Fear flickered across Gene's face. "Father, you didn't see what he did to me. The stories we've heard—they don't capture his true strength."

"All men have weaknesses," Tristan replied dismissively. "Even legendary alchemists."

He pulled a dusty tome from his shelf—an ancient record of Gyeon City's ceremonial sites.

"Begin making arrangements," he instructed. "Contact Victor Aguilar discreetly. I'll prepare the trap."

Gene hesitated. "The Covenant won't be pleased if we interfere with their plans."

"The Covenant had their chance with Knight and squandered it," Tristan declared. "Now it's our turn."

As Gene left to carry out his father's instructions, Tristan opened the ancient tome to a page showing ritual formations. His fingers traced a complex pattern—a binding circle used in ancient times to contain powerful entities.

"Let's see how legendary you truly are, Liam Knight," he murmured.

---

The next morning, I opened my door to find Rex Osborne and a contrite-looking Lowell Pauley standing on my doorstep.

"Mr. Knight," Rex greeted me with a polite bow. "I apologize for the misunderstanding yesterday. The Covenant values your expertise highly."

Lowell avoided my gaze, his discomfort evident.

"What do you want?" I asked directly.

"To offer you immediate access to the Mystic Realm," Rex replied. "No tests, no prerequisites—just the opportunity you seek."

I studied them carefully. Rex Osborne exuded confidence and authority, his Military Count aura undisguised. Beside him, Lowell seemed diminished.

"Why the change of heart?" I inquired.

"There was no change," Rex explained smoothly. "Lowell acted without authorization. The Covenant leadership has always intended to welcome you as an honored guest."

Lowell's jaw tightened at this public rebuke, but he remained silent.

I considered my options. The Scripture Pavilion that Emerson had offered was tempting, but the Mystic Realm represented immediate access to ancient knowledge.

"When?" I asked.

"Now, if you're available," Rex replied. "We've prepared everything."

"Let me get my things," I said, making my decision.

Ten minutes later, Clarissa arrived to join us. Her presence was reassuring—while I didn't fully trust the Covenant, she had proven herself reliable.

"Ready?" she asked with a smile.

"As I'll ever be," I replied.

Rex led us to a secluded area on the outskirts of Gyeon City—an unremarkable clearing surrounded by ancient trees. Nothing about it suggested mystical significance, yet I could sense subtle energy currents beneath the surface.

"This is the place?" I asked, scanning the area.

Rex nodded. "One of several access points. The ancient masters created multiple entrances to the Mystic Realm."

"How did you find it?" I inquired, genuinely curious. "There's no shrine here, no marker."

Rex gave me a curious look. "How did you know we should look for a shrine?"

I realized my mistake—I'd revealed knowledge from my conversation with Gene that the Covenant hadn't shared with me.

"Just an educated guess," I covered smoothly. "Most ancient sites have markers."

Rex seemed to accept this, though suspicion lingered in his eyes. "You're right, of course. There usually are markers. This entrance is... different."

He knelt and placed his palm on the ground. His qi flowed outward, creating a complex pattern that spread across the clearing.

"Stand back," he instructed.

The earth began to glow, lines of luminous energy forming a circular pattern ten feet in diameter. The air above the circle shimmered, distorting like heat waves rising from hot pavement.

"The portal will stabilize in a moment," Rex explained. "It can only remain open briefly, so we must enter quickly."

I watched, fascinated, as the distortion solidified into a distinct circular opening. Through it, I could glimpse a landscape unlike anything I'd seen before—rolling hills under a strangely colored sky, ancient structures dotting the horizon.

"The Mystic Realm," Clarissa whispered, awe evident in her voice.

"Who will accompany me?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the portal.

"I will," Clarissa volunteered immediately.

Rex shook his head. "Only one can enter during this phase. The portal is unstable—multiple entries could collapse it."

I shot Clarissa a questioning look. She nodded reassuringly. "It's standard procedure. You'll be fine."

Despite my reservations, the opportunity was too valuable to pass up. The Mystic Realm might hold answers to questions I'd been seeking for months—about my own abilities, about the ancient techniques in my jade pendant, about the true nature of cultivation.

"How long will I have?" I asked Rex.

"Three hours," he replied. "After that, the portal will reopen in this exact location. You must return then, or risk being trapped."

I nodded, running through mental preparations. My spatial ring contained emergency supplies and several defensive talismans. My cultivation was at peak strength. If anything went wrong, I had contingencies.

"Any last advice?" I asked.

"Trust your instincts," Rex said cryptically. "The Realm responds to intent as much as action."

With those enigmatic words hanging in the air, I approached the portal. The energy surrounding it tingled against my skin, ancient and powerful.

I took a deep breath, forcing down my excitement. This was what I'd been searching for—a direct connection to the source of knowledge that had shaped our world's martial traditions.

Without looking back, I stepped into the circular light, crossing the threshold between worlds.